Love Enough
by LadyKnightOfHollyrose
Summary: He almost thought he had imagined the sound, faint as it had been through the crinkle of fallen leaves and the steady hoof beat of his men following close behind him. Then he heard it again.


**The Trope Meme  
**_11: Historical AU_  
**Summary: **He almost thought he had imagined the sound, faint as it had been through the crinkle of fallen leaves and the steady hoof beat of his men following close behind him. Then he heard it again.

**. . .**

**Love Enough**

**. . .**

_"The bird sings as if to say that delight is easy, for those who desire it."_

_—__**The White Queen**__, Philippa Gregory_

He almost thought he had imagined the sound, faint as it had been through the crinkle of fallen leaves and the steady hoof beat of his men following close behind him. Damian's bows furrowed as he held up a hand. His men heeded the silent command and came to a halt.

Then he heard it again.

Buoyant laughter tickled his ear before floating away, the sound further than it had been only moments ago. Curiosity piqued, Damian slid down from his saddle. Sir Jason sighed from behind him as he did the same, instructing their party to rest a while. He followed Damian quietly as he left the well-used road to step into the foliage of the forest.

It did not take long to discover the source of Damian's interest.

"Really, Timothy," a voice was saying with fond exasperation. "I brought you outside as a reprieve from your studies. If you absolutely _must_ continue to read, won't you at least dip your feet in the pond?"

As the trees began to thin, the voice became clearer; Damian emerged at the very edge of a small clearing. The man who had, presumably, been speaking had his back turned to Damian. He stood over his companion, hips cocked to one side as his hands rested comfortably on his waist.

The other sat on the ground, leaning against a sturdy trunk with his nose buried deep in a book. He peered over the cover long enough to deliver a dry retort. "I know very well that if I do my feet will most certainly _not_ be the only thing to soak, brother."

Timothy disappeared between the pages of his book again as his brother threw his head back into a laugh – the very same that had attracted Damian's attention to begin with.

The man had a slim frame, the muscles in his back flexing as he pulled his arms up in a stretch. Damian could see the strength in his limbs as he rocked forward for a moment before rolling steadily onto his hands. He let his toes point to the sky for a few moments before lowering them to the ground one by one, arching his back away from the ground in a stretch that had his shirt sliding down his stomach a little. The sun painted the bared skin golden for a moment before he was moving again, pulling himself upright and rocking forward to perform a low somersault. He then bowed to his inattentive audience with a flourish.

Jason let out a low whistle from his elbow, and Damian glanced back at him.

"That's Timothy Drake – Jack Drake's only heir."

Damian turned his gaze back to the clearing. The older man was now giving Timothy's hair a thorough ruffle while holding the book out of his reach.

Damian had not even realised that Earl Drake had any children until the man's death two years before had meant his absence at court. Damian's mother in particular had been less than pleased when Drake had left his son – and his estate – in the care of one she had sneered at for being a 'circus boy of no standing'.

Looking at Richard Grayson now, Damian could sympathise with the man's father; if the mother was anything like the son even the threat of inevitable scorn and gossip at court had to be worth the trouble. The late Baron Grayson had certainly caused a stir when he had wed his circus acrobat wife, and from what Damian had heard he had remained unapologetically content regardless. Despite the put upon expression Timothy wore, Damian was certain that the warm happiness in his eyes would have been snuffed out early on had he been relocated to court as Damian's mother had wished. Damian was certain that the reason it was there _at all_ was down to Richard Grayson.

Damian hummed contemplatively for a moment. "I suppose it would be rude to pass through without greeting them."

Jason snorted inelegantly. "A fine time for you to start caring for manners. Bruce will be _so _proud."

Damian did not reply, instead choosing to step out from the shelter of the forest and into the open.

Timothy was the first to react to his presence, immediately going rigid as he hissed something at his brother. Grayson's response was more measured as he calmly retrieved his hand, holding it out to help Timothy to his feet. They bowed simultaneously, the motion fluid and practiced as they murmured "Your Highness," respectfully.

Damian had to work to keep from scowling as he nodded in acknowledgement. After the relaxed affection he had witnessed only moments before, the greeting – however appropriate – felt cold.

A slight prickling at the back of his neck told Damian that Jason had probably caught the small lapse in his stoic façade. After studying the young Prince's expression, the knight cleared his throat. It drew attention away from Damian, and although it wasn't a thought he would give voice to, he was grateful for the respite.

"Our party, led by His Highness, was passing through when we heard movement from within the forest. Considering the nature of our presence he felt it prudent to investigate and ensure that all was well."

Even after spending so much time with Jason, Damian sometimes forgot how eloquent the other could be when it was required of him. As much as he knew of Jason's distaste for dancing around his words for the sake of elegance, one had to be versed in appropriate speech for court when surrounded by the gentry. It was certainly a useful skill in times such as these, however.

"Reports of unrest brought us south," Damian continued, watching the way both brother's expressions turned grim at the words. "His Majesty tasked us to find the source and quell it." His own lips thinned as he thought back to the men that they had captured – men who had attempted to stir the populace into rebellion. Men who were traitors to the crown.

It had been an unsuccessful endeavour for them on two fronts; their capture had been swift, but even so their attempts to spread discontent had been futile when surrounded by loyal subjects who had benefited from Bruce Wayne's ascension to the throne. Still, Damian was sure that this was only the beginnings of a plot that was sure to unfold in the very near future.

He turned to catch Grayson's clear blue eyes with his own stormy gaze. "Have you any such concerns to bring to His Majesty's attention, Baron Grayson?"

Grayson looked startled at the use of his full title (though whether this was in relation to being addressed by the title that had belonged to his father or because of the fact that Damian was aware of exactly who he was without introduction, Damian was unsure). He recovered quickly, though, and shook his head as he replied. "The unrest has not yet spread to our region, Your Highness. Perhaps your presence today will keep it that way."

It was wishful thinking. It seemed as though the period of peace King Bruce had brought to Gotham was drawing to a close.

Jason cleared his throat again, and when Damian glanced up at him the knight tilted his head in the direction that they had left their men on the road. Damian gave a brief nod of understanding. "It is my hope that you are correct; for now, however, we must return and report our findings."

Recognising the dismissal for what it was, the two men bowed with another murmured "Your Highness" and Damian made to venture back to his men. He and Jason were almost back at the outskirts of the clearing when he heard Grayson calling out to him.

"Your Highness!" Damian turned to find that Grayson had followed them across the grass, leaving his scowling brother behind to retrieve his forgotten book. "I don't mean to delay you, but if you would like some refreshment before you return, my home is not far from here. We would be honoured by your presence…"

Damian looked him over, honestly tempted by the offer. He would usually dismiss such invitations as most were merely made out of obligation, but Grayson's sincerity shone clear. Still, he had a responsibility to return to his father with his news (and captives) as soon as possible, and Grayson hadn't seen the size of the party he would need to accommodate.

He shook his head with reluctance. "No, we must be on our way. But perhaps I will stop by when I return with less company in a few days."

They took their leave then, wading carefully back through the forest to the road that would take them home. It wasn't until they were in their saddles and trotting towards their destination that Jason turned to Damian with a smirk that he had surely been holding in for quite some time.

"Do you really think this is wise?"

When the prince ignored him, he continued to press in a low hiss, "I've known you since your birth, Damian, and I saw the way you looked at him. Your father doesn't care about your preferences so long as all affairs remain private, but your mother would have fits at the mere thought. Not to mention that I doubt he would be willing to follow you to court. He's Drake's guardian for goodness sake!"

"And Drake will be of age soon, will he not? As an Earl he will no doubt need to present himself to court. And Grayson will no doubt follow."

"Be that as it may," Jason countered slowly, "I doubt the young Earl will let you within ten yards of his brother without an escort of some kind, crown prince or no. He's like a hawk, that one. And Baron Grayson is certainly no stable boy."

Damian regarded his companion with a flat stare. "And he will not be treated as one." His tone was firm, and Jason gaped at him incredulously. Before the knight could interject he went on. "And if Grayson is willing Drake will not be a problem. So yes, it certainly is wise. Because by the time Drake makes his court debut, he will be."

_And then he will be mine._

~Hollyrose~

**Notes:**

The title is from this quote, and is more of an overall AU title than specifically for this fic (I may write more for this AU later since I've taken a liking to it!):

"If there is love enough, then nothing – not nature, not even death itself – can come between two who love each other."

Which is also taken from the same book. I haven't read The White Queen yet, but watching the TV adaptation made me want to write this despite the fact that I had promised myself not to start anymore Historical!AUs considering how many I already have ^^'

I may have gotten distracted more than once thinking about all of the politics of this AU, which meant that I finished this a lot slower than I anticipated. But that also means that I have scope to continue writing for this AU if I feel like it. I also want to say thank you to WhiteWings9 for looking this over for coherence for me despite not being into the fandom. Any mistakes made are my own (and I'll probably cringe over them on Monday when I get the chance to reread it orz). But as always, if you pick up on any mistakes or have any feedback feel free to drop me a message!


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